


One More Night

by LondonGypsy



Series: Greek Summer Nights [4]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Benedict can't get enough, F/M, Sexy Times, ignoring the issues, revelations - kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tousled, tanned and very sexy Benedict in Greece.<br/>Isis, writing for a newpaper, at a Sherlock promotion.<br/>And what happens when they cross paths and spend the night together.</p>
<p>This is another night together...</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Night

**Author's Note:**

> A huge Thank You goes (as always) to my beloved SuperWhoLockGypsy.  
> Also a big big Thank You to Barawen and calliope79 for inspiration, cheerleading and generally making me want to continue this.  
> Barawen also for BritPicking this baby.  
> Thank you, Ladies, wouldnt have written this without you.

It's dark when we arrive back at the hotel; the Greek sun is setting quickly. 

“So,” Benedict says, stopping short of the entrance, “dinner.” 

I look up at him, he's beaming at me like a little boy. 

“Dinner,” I laugh, wanting to walk past him to get inside but his hand holds me back. 

“I thought,” he says, squirming a bit before he straightens his back, “how about a private dinner... at my room...” 

He is fidgeting, fumbling with the hem of his shirt and refusing to look me in the eyes. 

“Oh.” 

I can't help but find his behaviour quite adorable: we had wild, shameless sex on a more or less public beach only an hour ago and here he is, shy and sweet about a rather innocent dinner at his room. Once again I am struck at the different sides he's shown me over the past hours. 

I lay my hand on his cheek, angling his head so that he can't avoid looking me in the eyes. 

“I would love to.” 

His entire face lights up as he leans into my touch. 

“I just need a shower first. And change into something less sticky,” I say, smirking at him. 

Instantly his eyes darken and get that predatory look I saw that very first time I’ve met him. 

“You're insatiable,” I inform him teasingly despite the rush of desire that fills me at his heated eyes. 

“Hurry,” he murmurs and without another word he turns and walks towards the lifts. 

I watch him vanish behind the closing doors before I follow on weak knees. 

 

An hour later I am knocking on Benedict's door, nervousness makes my hand shake a little. 

The door swings open and the sight takes my breath away. 

The entire room is lit by candles, casting a warm glow over everything. 

Benedict stands in the doorway, smiling shyly at me. 

He's wearing tight black trousers, a crisp white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves. His feet are bare. 

“What? It's hot,” he says defensively as I raise an eyebrow at it. 

A grin is tugging at my lips as I enter the room and he closes the door behind me. 

Leaning down, he brushes a kiss against my cheek. 

“You look wonderful,” he says softly as he pulls back, his gaze gliding appreciatively over my little red cocktail-dress. 

“You too.” 

He takes my hand and leads me onto the balcony where a table is laid, more candles illuminating the night like fireflies. 

I blush as I think about the things that happened on this very balcony mere 12 hours ago. 

He notices and chuckles, the rumbling sound of it making me bite my lips to hold back a moan. 

Pulling back a chair, he motions for me to sit before he lifts the silver lids on both our plates. 

“I had to throw in my star status to get this all up here but I think it's worth it,” he says with great flourish as he pours wine into our glasses and sits down opposite me. 

I watch him, stricken by the simple beauty and elegance of his movements as he reveals more covered plates, presenting me the delicacies hidden under them. 

“To a wonderful day, followed by an equally wonderful night, I hope,” he says lowly, raising his glass at me. 

I take my glass and gently clink it against his. 

We take a sip of the wine, our gaze finding the other one's, holding it. 

I could drown in his eyes, sparkling golden in the lights of the candles on the table. 

“It's getting cold,” he murmurs after a few moments, and I reluctantly look away and down on my plate. 

I take up my own cutlery and for a while we're eating silently, only making appreciative hums at the deliciousness of our food. 

“So, what are you doing for a living,” Benedict asks after he's finished his plate, leaning contently back in his chair. 

“You know everything about me, which gives you an unfair advantage. Tell me about you.” 

I finish of the last bite of my pasta, suddenly anxious as to how he might react to my line of work. 

“Uhm, well...” I start, searching for words. 

He raises an eyebrow at me. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” he grins, “don’t tell me, you're Mafia or something.” 

I shake my head. 

“No, but close enough. For you that is.” 

Now he looks confused and I take a deep breath and close my eyes. 

“I work for a newspaper.” 

Silence. 

I blink through one lid, prepared for the worst. 

He hasn’t moved, the glass he's raised to take a drink, in mid air. His brows are drawn together and his entire posture has become alert. 

I hurry to clarify, hating the look of sudden wariness on his face. 

“I work in Culture and Travel, nothing that concerns you. Yesterday was me filling in for a colleague who’s ill.” 

His posture relaxes a little but he's still tense. 

“Look, I am sorry, I should have told you earlier but...” 

“'s okay. You just shocked me there for a second.” 

I fiddle with my napkin, avoiding his eyes. 

“I.. if it helps, nothing, and I mean it, nothing we talked or...uhm, did, will get anywhere...” 

His soft chuckle makes me look at him. 

“I trust you,” he says quietly and reaches out over the table to stop my fidgeting hand. 

“You do?” I ask, baffled. 

He shrugs and there's that lopsided smile again, making my heart jump. 

“Yes, I do. I don’t know why but I do. Do you know why I came over to you yesterday?” 

Heat is flushing my face as I think back to it. But no, I have no idea why he did what he did. 

“Because you blushed when I caught you watching me. And you looked gorgeous like that... Usually people keep staring, no matter what and aren't even ashamed of it. You though, you were. And that drew me to you.” 

He takes my hand, entwining our fingers and leans closer. 

“And yet you couldn’t stop looking later. Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t stop. And I found myself incredibly turned on by that... as you know.” 

Raising our hands, he kisses my fingertips, one by one, never breaking eye contact. 

“You are a very weird man,” I choke out, which makes him laugh. 

“I might be but you like it,” he drawls as he stands up and rounds the table. 

“And now I am going to take you to bed...” 

With that he suddenly scoops me up and carries me inside, despite my weak protests. 

He carefully sets me down on the edge of the bed, his hands finding the zip of my dress instantly and pulling it down. 

I stand and the fabric falls to the floor, pooling around my ankles. 

The candles cast his face in shadows and the only thing I can see are his eyes, slowly sliding over my body. 

“Delicious,” he mumbles, his fingers already on the button of his shirt. 

I swat them away. 

“Oh no, you don’t. It's my turn now.” 

He only raises an eyebrow at me but his hands fall down, waiting. 

“You know,” I tell him quietly as I start opening the buttons on his shirt, “ever since I've came to this room I've wanted to take my time with you. Kiss every bloody spot of that gorgeous body of yours...” 

His shirt falls open and I push my hands underneath the fabric, sighing as they touch silky soft skin. 

“I want to take my time, want to take you apart like you did with me earlier...piece by piece...” 

I lean forward, kissing a trail down his neck, nuzzling the crook of his neck, making him moan quietly as I sink my teeth gently into the flesh. 

“I am going to make you beg...”

He growls low in his throat, his hands clenching to fists at his side. 

“I do not beg.” 

I chuckle against his neck, raking my fingernails over the entire length of his back. 

He arches into me, pressing his warm body against mine. 

“Yes, you do. You will. Because I will make you,” I inform him matter of factly, gripping his arse tightly. 

His growing erection pushes against my bare thigh, causing a full on body shudder for both of us. 

My fingers find their way to his waistband, flicking open the button and sliding down the zip. 

“Off,” I demand and he willingly complies. 

I look up at him; he's grinning cheekily. 

“You really do have an aversion against underwear, don’t you?” I ask him, running a finger over his groin, making him shiver. 

“Just wanting to be prepared for everything.” 

His reply turns into another moan as I wrap my hand around his length. 

The feeling of him, hot and throbbing against my palm is dizzying and when I give one hard stroke he almost collapses against me. 

“Good lord, woman, have mercy,” he drawls, his voice gone all husky and dark. 

“Make me stop.” 

“With pleasure.” 

Before I can even blink, his arms are around me and together we tumble onto the bed, his hands and lips everywhere. 

Bra and panties are gone in a heartbeat but as I want to chuck my heels he stops me. 

“Leave them,” he growls, ducking in for a bruising kiss. 

“Kinky bastard,” I pant against his lips.

His hands are closing around my breasts, his thumbs rubbing over my hard nipples. 

I arch into his touch, incoherent noises falling from my lips. God, that feels so good. 

Hazily I remember that it's me, who's supposed to be in charge and I push against him. To my surprise he's easily thrown off and rolls on his back, looking up at me with blown eyes, the hint of a smile lingering on his wet lips. 

I straddle his thighs, purposely avoiding his cock, letting my hands run over his chest, revelling in the smoothness of his skin. 

His entire body is vibrating beneath me, his hands clenched around the sheets and he's biting his lips. 

I kiss my way down his chest, biting gently at his nipples and the sound he makes, all broken and shaky, has me do it again. 

I slide lower, licking and kissing every inch of salty skin, inhaling his scent deeply. 

With my knees I push his legs apart and slide between them, my hands on each thigh, holding them in place. 

I peak up at him. 

He is watching me through heavy lids, and once again, the intensity with which he's looking at me, chases a shiver down my spine. 

Slowly I lower my head, letting my breath ghost over his skin; he trembles heavily. Smiling I trail one finger around his now leaking cock. 

Benedict lets out a sob and his hands tangle in my hair, pushing it out of my face. 

“God, please...” he whispers, tilting his hips a little. 

“What do you want?” I ask, letting him feel a faint bit of nails on the thin skin on the inside of his legs. 

“You, I want you,” he breathes, his tone desperate. 

Without warning I wrap my lips around his cock, the bitter taste exploding in my mouth, making me hum around his thickness. Tentatively I curl my tongue around the head, teasing him. 

He cries out, his fingers in my hair tighten and his hips twitch involuntarily. 

Experimentally I suck harder, another spurt of earthy bitterness filling my mouth and he's trashing under me, babbling and cursing incoherently. 

I take him deeper, licking and sucking and as I carefully scrape my teeth over the satiny skin, he yells, the muscles in his legs quivering heavily. 

Suddenly his grip in my hair becomes almost painful and through the blood cursing loudly in my veins I hear him call my name. 

I let go of him, and as if he's only waited for that, he pulls me up and kisses me with a passion that makes my entire world shrink to only his full lips and and his feverish tongue in my mouth. 

His legs tangle with mine and with a grunt he flips us around so that he's laying on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. 

“I am going to take you, hard and dirty until you scream.”

His rough baritone is so deep I can almost taste the words in the air between us. 

“Empty promises,” I croak weakly and he grinds down on me, his cock rubbing against me. 

He shifts a little and leans over to the night-stand. He rips open the condom with his teeth before he sits up to roll it on. 

His gaze is burning into mine, and even if I wanted I am not able to look away. The blazing desire I can see in his face, in his eyes, is rendering me motionless. I see the raw lust and the open, painfully clear, want written all over his features. 

His big hands return to me, his touch burning on my sensitive skin and as he spreads my legs further, I can't control a needy whimper. 

I have never felt such pure carnal longing for somebody. The urge to give myself to him, utterly and completely is overwhelming and I surrender. 

Of course he notices and a dangerous smile spreads over his angelic face. 

One hand slides between my legs, teasing me, rubbing over wet flesh while the other hand takes hold of his cock. 

And with one fluid motion he pushes inside me, sliding easily all the way in before he stills entirely. 

I angle my hips, wordlessly urging him to move but he shakes his head sharply. 

“No. First I am going to make you come and I will watch you fall apart. And then I am going to take what's mine,” he growls. His voice is so incredibly hoarse, it almost hurts to listen to it. It takes a moment for the words to register with me but by then he has already pulled back, kneeling between my spread legs. 

One of his huge hands slips between us, instantly finding that one spot, making me cry out in pleasure. He is still inside me, parting me but not quite moving, only shallow little thrusts while those long fingers rub and pinch and twirl. 

Everything narrows down to one point, I am panting, arousal cursing wildly through my veins. 

“Yeah, that's it,” I hear him murmur through the haze in my head. His fingers move faster, harder until it almost hurts and yet I can't get enough of it. I scramble for a hold in the sheets to not float away. I am over-aware of him inside me, holding me open, spreading me widely. I feel exposed and vulnerable but the way Benedict is watching me, longing and hunger written all over his face, makes me feel superior. Shudders are raking through me and I can feel the tingles in my spine and my toes; helplessly I clench around him and he grunts wildly, his rhythm falters for a second before he regains it, rubbing even harder now. 

“God, you're so fucking hot like this,” he rambles, sweat running down his face, his chest heaving. 

And suddenly I am there, my vision is going blurry as I'm coming hard, barely feeling his hands holding me down as I writhe on the bed. 

When the daze in my head clears again, Benedict is pounding into me frantically, grunting and panting. 

His arms are slung around my shoulders, holding me together while he thrusts hard, every move so bone-crushingly deep I have the feeling he wants to take me apart from the inside. 

“Mine, you're fucking mine,” I hear him whisper into my neck. 

Still trembling in the afterglow I manage to wrap my legs around his waist, the heels I am still wearing digging into the flesh of his back. It seems to turn him on even more because he lets out a rough whine, doubling his pace. 

Everything is Benedict, his slick body against mine, his harsh breath against my neck, his choked moans in my ears. His musky scent is filling my nose, his sweat salty and fresh against my lips as I lick his shoulder, biting him.

He arches into me, pushing impossibly deeper and then he falls apart. 

His desperate groans are muffled against my skin, his entire body is shaking and I will have bruises from his hands on my shoulders tomorrow where he's clinging to me. 

He doesn’t seem to be able to stop shaking, not even when I tighten my grip around him, holding him as close as possible. He just keeps trembling, gasping, almost sobbing as his orgasm surges through him. 

Finally he calms down, his hands release my shoulders and he rolls off of me, collapsing next to me in a heap of sweaty limbs. 

“Christ,” he mutters breathlessly. 

Every single bone in my body feels melted and it takes a lot of effort to roll onto my side to face him. 

He's stretched out on the bed, his skin shimmering golden in the soft light of the candles, arms and legs spread widely over the sheets. 

I let my eyes wander over his naked body, trying to find words to express how I am feeling but I fail. 

I settle for reaching my hand out, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. He turns his head and smiles wearily at me. My heart stops for a moment at the sight. 

Yes, he has smiled quite often at me these past days but this, this small smile, is new. It's only short and vanishes quickly but it speaks of affection and emotions, of more than sex and it makes my heart sting at the hint of sadness in it. 

I crawl closer to him, nuzzling the side of his neck and he hums softly. Sliding closer I settle my hand over his still rapidly beating heart. A few moment pass before he covers it with his own hand, squeezing gently. 

Slowly his heartbeat calms, lulling me in with its steadiness and soon my eyes flutter close as sleep tugs heavily on me. 

I manage a drowsy “good night” before I sink into darkness. 

The “good night, my love” I hear must be part of a dream. 


End file.
